How I Met You
by PoetWITHOUTaCause
Summary: How Alak and Christie meet. *** "You weren't rambling." I look up to see her standing up, probably heading home. "We were having a conversation." *** Mulit- Chapter of Oneshots.
1. You're a Haint

**entitled;** How I Met You  
**summary; **"Ow." He mocks me, "You sure do know how to hurt a guy." He laughs and I smirk, even though he can't see it. "You aren't a guy," I sass and I swear I can literally hear his eyebrows rise, "you're a haint."_**  
**_**rating;** PG  
**disclaimer; **I figured that until we got something on how they came to be Defiance's "power couple" or whatever, why not theorize ourselves? Probably will turn into a mulit- chapter one shots about all the way they could have met.

* * *

**_#1 You're a Haint._**

* * *

We all stand in a big crowd outside the Mayor's hall. My dad stands across the way from me with my older brother Luke. Quinton was probably off trying to charm some girl or learn something new with the mines. Up on the stand is the mayor and Datak Tarr and his wife. His son is nowhere to be seen which is kind of strange; he's always with them on acceptance days, just like I am always with my dad when he is accepting some award or something- I don't know why I care. He's a freak- an alien. Not to be trusted and not to talk to- well, according to Luke anyway. I have never been in ones company so I could not tell if they were good or not.

I slip my hands into each other and hold them in front of me, sighing out of boredom and I let my head roll to the side, hopefully this would be over soon. "Don't tell me you are bored already." I hear in my ear, the words had an infliction on them- an accent different from mine. I don't let my curiosity get to me so I don't turn around; even though my body tenses up and I stand straighter then I was a few moments ago.

"My dad says I shouldn't talk to you." I tell the boy with the white skin who stands behind me, to the side in same crowd gathered around the mayor stand in Defiance, Ohio. He had to be a Castithan, with that accent, no doubt.

He snorts and I have to will my body to not turn and glare at him. "Do you always do what daddy says?" He whispers back in response, teasing me. I roll my eyes, _what is he? Four?_ I feel his breath on my neck, spearmint and something else, something weird. Foreign. _Alien_.

"I do what I'm told, Castithan." I speak back and step forward, away from him. I feel him move with me, step in sync to me.

"Ow." He mocks me, "You sure do know how to hurt a guy." He laughs and I smirk, even though he can't see it.

"You aren't a guy," I sass and I swear and can literally hear his eyebrows rise, "you're a haint." I use Luke's word and fold my arms across my chest in defiance- which is a bit ironic considering. His voice takes on an edge when he speaks to me again. "Turn around and say that, human." I take a glance at my family and their attention is fully devoted to what the mayor is saying.

I take a breath, deep and long and then I spin on my heel- a bit too fast as I take the turn full, his hands come up to catch me, gripping my shoulders with tenderness. I take my time as I raise my eyes fully to meet his. "Not such a haint now, am I, Christie McCawley?" He asks me, his voice deep with young age- maybe that's normal with this race though. I look at him again and again; I raise my hand, my brow furrowed in curiousness, when I realize my hand is raised though I quickly let it fall back to my side. I look down, positive that a blush has spread over my cheeks but my brothers' words echo in my head and I quickly look straight back at the alien in front of me.

II am fully prepared to smart off to him and tell him to kick rocks, but something stops me. He isn't like the rest, his eyes are curious and inviting. I raise my hand again and let it drift over his hair, feeling it; the dark blue a stark contrast to the bright white that it lays upon. I let my hand weave through it, surprise he didn't pull away. It's soft and fine- like silk that I once heard about from Dad. "No, not a haint. That's what my brother calls your race. Haints because you aren't from here; not one of us." I mumble, focusing on my hand in his hair, not on what was coming out of my lips. I see him smile out of the corner of my eye and I pull my hand back, letting it drift to my side, my trance broken with that one movement.

"I'm Alak Tarr." He says and cock my head to the left. _Why was he talking to me?_ "My dad hates your dad." I reply in return. He laughs. I like his laugh. I shouldn't be talking to him- what if Dad or Luke see? He- Alak is talking again; I refocus on him.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean we have to hate each other, does it?" I know what he's doing; he's coy and charming but he could just as well be a snake in the grass. On the other hand, my heart is skipping a beat and I let my lips curl upward in response, but my guard stays rigid. "Wanna get out of here?" He knocks his head over toward the club district.

"I'm 14." I say in response and turn back around to the ceremony. I feel him, his presence behind me unwavering.

"and I'm 16." He comes closer, and shockingly, I want him too. "Come with me." I feel his hand slip into my own and I let him grasp it. I look toward my family and I feel a thud against my chest- I let Alak Tarr of Datak and Stahma Tarr, enemy of Rafe McCawley, pull me away.

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**So, what do you think?**


	2. Stop It!

**entitled;** How I Met You  
**summary; **"I'm not supposed to walk with strangers." I add as she begins to walk forward. She smiles down at me, "Well, if I tell you my name, that means we aren't strangers right?" She questions me and I grin with a nod, the pretty lady's eyes light with laughter. "My name is Stahma."  
**rating;** PG  
**disclaimer; **I figured that until we got something on how they came to be Defiance's "power couple" or whatever, why not theorize ourselves? Probably will turn into a mulit- chapter one shots about all the way they could have met.

* * *

**#2**_ Stop It!_

* * *

Daddy was working today, all day and had to have Luke watch me. I rather have Quinton but he was down in the mines even though he was only thirteen years old. Luke was now 15 and when he wasn't at the mines he was doing something secret, always sneaking off. Which is exactly why I didn't like him watching me; he'd take me to the market and leave me alone. It wasn't that big of a deal because I was ten but lately I am in a phase where I cry . . . a lot. I don't know why either! It makes me want to stomp my foot, too.

Now I was sitting on a market counter, watching as all species interacted with one another. The white people were stand- offish and the people with the weird nose were strange, they were animal- like; like a cat! Being left in the market while Luke did his secret stuff wasn't that bad, everybody knew me because I was Rafe McCawleys' daughter. Before I was here, I was playing with the other kids that I saw in school- but then I got bored. Now I am bored again. I hop down off of the wooden counter and feel my hair swishing around my neck in its ponytail holder. I walk forward and explore the market place. I look up and around at all the strange things before me. I've told about the many areas in the market place and which area's mainly belonged to which alien. I was told by Daddy and Luke to not go into the Castithan's area- it was forbidden because Daddy didn't like someone. He _hated _the guy and didn't want any of us near him or his kind. That kind was evil, he said, evil and wrong.

That was why I was now freaking out, because I had explored the market before, except for the part that was forbidden to me and now that's where I am and I don't know it and I don't know where to go. These people looked at me, watched me- no, not people, Aliens. I keep spinning around as if I'll recognize something but I don't and I won't because I'm not supposed to be here! I feel a burning behind my eyes and so I shut them really, really tight. I will the tears to go away. I am ten years old and ten year olds don't cry! They just don't! I was out of place, I shouldn't be here.

I spun some more but all around me was white, just white every which way. Everywhere. I didn't dare move from the opening where I was because what if I got even more lost? I didn't want to get more lost. I couldn't stop the hot, salty tears as they fell from my eyes. Great! When Luke did find her, not only would he be scary and mean, he'd also make fun of her for crying like a baby! Which, of course would make her cry more and then they'd fight and Daddy would take his side because Luke was his favorite! Shtako!

I felt a gentle hand fall onto my shoulder, and as it gripped me, I jumped about a mile high. I turned slowly on the heels of my feet, looking into the eyes of a pretty lady. Alien or not, she was very pretty. My heart was still beating fast from the scare and the tears had started to dry against my copper-ish skin. "What's wrong?" The pretty lady asks, her voice smooth like chocolate, the kind the Daddy gives us when we've been really good. She lifted her hand up to my face and didn't deter even when I flinched away from her. Her thumb glided across the surface of my cheek, wiping away the tears. Her hand was really soft. I look closely at her as she does this. Her strange eyes are focus on my cheek, a light tilt to her lips show to a small smile, her hair, though down, is cover by a white veil that matches her outfit pretty dress.

"I'm lost." I say simply with a shrug. My voice was still a bit watery from the water works, as Quinton calls it. The pretty lady made a soft sound. She rose up off of the ground, taking one of my hands with her as she stands straight; I come up to the middle of her torso. I twist our hands so I can see hers- the long slender finger and perfectly filed nails- she had to be as rich as Daddy, if not richer! "I'm not supposed to walk with strangers." I add as she begins to walk forward.

She smiles down at me, "Well, if I tell you my name, that means we aren't strangers right?" She questions me and I grin with a nod, the pretty lady's eyes light with laughter. "My name is Stahma." She squeezes my hand as we continue to walk.

"I'm Christie McCawley." I tell her and she just smiles down at me. "I know." She replies and I raise my eyebrow at her but she just smiles and turns around, calling out across the market place: "Alak!" I turn with her to see a kid a few inches taller, maybe less because of the distance with white hair like Stahma's turn look up toward the voice. He was surrounded by four others boys. "Come, Alak." She calls again and with resigned gesture, he comes. He walks slowly, slinking over.

"Mom, I'm twelve. I think I can stay in the market with my friends." He complains as he reaches us, gravitating to his mothers other side. We start forward again. She ruffles his hair and gives him a sweet smile. "Your father has many enemies and though they won't strike him," She smoothes his hair back down and given him the look that dad gives me when he is giving us a warning, "I fear that they wouldn't hesitate to strike you." Her hand rests on his shoulder, and he sighs in agreement.

He changes the subject, "Who's the human?" He asks carelessly and I hide myself into her skirts. She chides him or something in the language that they speak and then she replies in English, "This is Christie McCawley; Rafe McCawley's daughter." I can feel his eyes on me even though I'm looking anywhere but him. "Father hates him." He states bluntly. Stahma laughs at his words and I freeze- I am walking with Daddy's enemy; I look up at Stahma, he white hair hanging perfectly around her face as she speaks in the strange language again. She looks over at me and then in English, says "That is no secret, is it?" I shake my head no.

I guess Alak got tired of standing over there and trying to get a good look at me because he soon rounds around Stahma and is standing next to me. "I'm Alak." He tells me. I raise my eyebrows and look at Stahma, who is laughing silently. "How old are you?" I turn back to Alak, who I already knew was his name from when she called it out in the market place. I must have really gotten myself twisted around in this part. He openly studies me, "Are you mute?" He asks out of nowhere. I gape at him; is he serious?

"I'm ten. I got lost because I wondered too far into your market. Stahma is helping me get un- lost. I find your questions annoying. Anything else, Alak?" I finish with my hands on my hips. _When did I let go of Stahma's hand? _

He shrugs, "Wanna race?" I look at him for second before shrugging.

"Don't get each other lost." Stahma warns and then we race. To my surprise, I am faster. He has longer legs but I'm smaller, able to get more speed. That doesn't mean he won't gain on me, which in a matter of seconds, he is. He is on my heels the whole way; laughter bubbles up in my chest and spills out of my mouth. He laughs with me. He calls to me to turn left and I do, at the end of this alley I see my market, the main market. I push my feet harder into the ground, sprinting.

I get closer and closer, the walls fade away. I whip my hand in the air and holler. I spin around, doing a dance to celebrate my victory. I slow to see where Alak went, and he is leaning on the wall, watching me as a smile plays on his lips. He start to walk toward me but stops as a yell is echoed through the market. I turned quickly to see Luke barreling through the crowd toward me an Alak. "Christie!" He yells and I flash a fearful glance toward Alak. Why does he hate him so much? Why do I have to hate him? Why don't I hate him? Luke places his hand roughly on my shoulder as he pushes me away from Alak and behind him. I grab onto his wrist, trying to pull him away from Alak. "Stop it, Luke! He wasn't doing anything." My brother turns on me.

"This haint here is the reason we live in _this_ world, Christie and I don't like you playing with him." My eyes start to burn and I look upward, anywhere but him. "Are you seriously crying?"

"Hey, lay off." I hear from the side and see Alak stepping up. Luke turns to face him as the burning behind my eyes subsides. I grab at my brothers' wrist again as Alak and he get in fighting distance. "Luke, seriously stop." I plead once more.

"I suggest you do what your sister suggests, McCawley." I hear from the alley opening and see Stahma. All regal white in the shade of the alley. She is glaring at my brother, her strange colored eyes hard as ember. Luke looks between the Tarrs before throwing up his hands; he flicks my hand off his arm, angrily ordering me to follow. His long gate is hard for me to keep up with but I know my way home. I hear my name behind me and turn to see Alak racing against the crowd. Surprisingly I smile. _Why am I smiling? _He walks up to me and stops running when he sees I have stopped. His eyes are bright and not the harden eyes I saw when he was going against my brother.

"Am I always going to be chasing you?" He asks me and I smile. I want to answer but I don't know what with.

"See you later, Alak." I wave and turn to follow my brother.

* * *

**I decided to take a stab at little!Alak and little!Christie. . . what'd you think?  
**


	3. Go Away

**entitled;** How I Met You  
**summary; **"None of you have a chance in hell. That is Christie McCawley. Her dad practically runs the anti- Castithan campaign, along with his kids." I just get blank looks. "Including her."  
**rating;** PG  
**disclaimer; **I figured that until we got something on how they came to be Defiance's "power couple" or whatever, why not theorize ourselves? Probably will turn into a mulit- chapter one shots about all the way they could have met.

* * *

**#3 **_Go Away_

* * *

This job sucks. I think to myself as I wipe down one of the counters in the tight space of this railroad car diner. More like a dive. I scoff as a group of rowdy Castithan boys come in. I'm not even through my first month and they have to sit in my section? God, I deal with enough of this at home, living with three men and I come to work and mostly its humans which is nice. I am raised on the principle that humans equal good, aliens equal evil. They stole our planet and made it different. Made it wrong.

They twisted our rules and broke our system. I sighed quietly and grabbed the menus from the stand I manned; I walked over to their table, not even bothering to look up as I dropped the menus in front of the four alien boys, and then walked away. They all looked the same anyway- pale skin, white hair, violet or honey colored eyes that are red rimmed. Just haints; dirty, rotten haints, which is my brothers' main lesson. 15 years of them and you learn something.

I wait 5 minutes before walking back over, dropping the towel on the waiting station again as I finish up the rest of the tables. "What do you want to drink?" I ask, my tone bored as I had my pencil ready to write down everything they said so they couldn't complain and it would limit my time with them if I got their orders exactly right but no one said anything. I look up from my notepad to see them all staring at me.

"What?" I ask them. God, their annoying. They shake themselves out of it and give their drink orders which aren't quite as a varied as they were when my dad was younger. I hear them talking in that strange language as I go to deliver more orders.

* * *

"Dude!" My friends exclaimed as the McCawley girl walked away. Another one clapped him on the back, all taking bets to see who'd win her over. Hah! If only they knew.

"None of you have a chance in hell." I tell them all and they stare back at me. I turn a glass thing of salt in my hand, "That is Christie McCawley. Her dad practically runs the anti- Castithan campaign, along with his kids." I just get blank looks. "Including her." I inform them, using a 'duh' tone. They all roll their eyes and the one nearest me says, "Doesn't mean her mind can't be swayed. I bet you haven't even talked to her before."

"And I have no intention of talking to her, shakto." Annoyed, I turn away, looking out the window. He claps me on the back.

"My friend, we all dare to talk to her once. Not a date or anything, just one tiny conversation." I look at him with crazy eyes, "come on, Alak. One conversation." I look behind me to see her. She serving a sandwich to a guy who looks like her, a human. She is smiling at him; well, of course- he is a human. I shake my head as I turn back around.

"She'll never go for it." I state clear as day. They don't understand that this girl hates all of our kind, that she was raised on it.

My friend across from me smirks, "Well, let's find out." He makes a movement and there she is. Brown hair, caramel skin, bright brown eyes- even I couldn't deny that she was beautiful. She carries a tray with a coffee, 2 teas, and a weird bubbly drink that I could never adjust to. "Thanks." I say, as she lays the tea in front of me. She gives me a weird look before locking the tray in between her side and her arm so she can write down our orders.

"What do you guys want?" She asks us, her tone of voice was the same as when she first took our orders. I look at the guys then back at her. "Have you guys not looked at the menu?" She asks, incredulously.

"We don't know what's good." I simply state and she gives me that look again. "Never been here." Someone across the car hollers and her head whips back, making her brown hair fly across her shoulder.

She puts the pad thing away and stalks off; I can't help but watch as she runs over to the order window, collects the food, serves it, clears some plates from another table and then another and wipe them down. In all, it only took five minutes and then she is back to me- us. Back to us. She gives a sigh, and lays down the tray on the seat behind us. Her elbow is propped up on the shiny metal thing connected to our seat. She leans down over my shoulder and opens the menu; I stare at her instead of the menu. "It all depends on what you like. Do you like spicy?" She asks and looks toward me. She doesn't flinch away as she realizes that I was watching her; surprising.

"Yeah." I answer and she nods, taking my menu and picking up her paper thing, writing something down on it.

She nods her head over to my friends, "and you guys? What do you want?" Her voice, the sound of it, I realized I could hear it all day and not get bored- also, she doesn't treat me how her brothers do. She tolerates me . . . maybe she is different.

* * *

I take their orders to the kitchen and then wait, going outside to clear those tables instead of being with the staring haints. Creeps. I shudder as I clean the dishes off a table, throwing them into the plastic bin to take to Cook. "It's not even cold." I hear behind me, I turn to the voice, looking over my shoulder. It's the haint from the table. I furrow my eyes brows; what in hell was he talking about? "You shivered." He went on, his eyes bright; my bangs slightly obscured the view, so I could be mistaken. I look back at my bin and move to the next table. "I'm Alak." He answers a question I didn't even care enough to ask. Datak's kid.

"Go away, _Alak_." I answer, throwing things harder into the bin then needed, drawing a few eyes.

"You don't like me, do you?" He guesses and with my dishbin locked securely in my hands, I head to the cook, ignoring the new puppy dog. "Come on, talk to me." He urges, a groan escapes my lips and I put the bin on a table and turn, grabbing him from the crook in his elbow, pulling him away from the curious eyes. He is smiling the whole time- if Luke ears about this he won't be; that's comforting at least.

I release him as soon as we are out of ear- and eye shot.

"Okay, listen to me closely. I have no want to talk to you-"

"You are talking to me." I ignore him.

"You're messing with my work and I need this job." I explain, hoping he gets the message.

He advances me and I take a step back. He keeps doing this until I'm all the way pressed against the outside wall of the rail car, his palms rests to the right of my head and I can feel my heart jack- hammering. He leans in and I swear to god if he tries... If he ... If...

"Then meet me tonight. At The NeedWant." He requests in a low voice. I have to remind myself that I hate this race. They destroyed our whole planet- they killed thousands of humans. But his eyes. So violet, so warm. I feel my breath lower, my chest heaves. I can leave; he isn't holding me here. I can laugh and walk away.

"Do you know who I am?" I ask him, honestly curious. He chuckles.

"Christie. You're Christie McCawley. Daughter of Rafe McCawley. Sister of Luke and Quinton McCawley. Your family basically runs the haint hate program." He grins and Cheshire grin; like from the cat in the silly world in that book that mom used to read to me before bed when I was little. "Do you know who I am?" He asks, snapping me out of my flash back. I shouldn't be conversing with him. I should leave.

"Alak Tarr. Son of Datak and Stahma. Castithan. Enemy of my father." It comes out in a hushed tone.

"But not your enemy?" He questions. He is really close to me. I should get back to work.

"We're all enemies." I whisper.

His grin drops and so does his hand, but not for long. He lifts my bangs from my face, clearing my vision. "Meet me, tonight." He asks again. I watch him, looking in his weird eyes. It goes against everything I raised to believe. It goes against all the warnings in my body- in my head. It goes against all of it. I look at him once more before pushing off the car, barely a breath between him and me- and then I walk away.

I can hear him laugh behind me and I seriously can't take off the small smile clinging onto my lips and a part of me doesn't ever want it to fade away. This is so beyond wrong, but an old cliche my father used to say: if this is wrong, I don't want to be right. . . or something along those lines.

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**I'm a bit sketchy about how this came out, because it's not what I originally intended for it to be, so please tell me what you think!**


	4. Just a Conversation

**entitled;** How I Met You  
**summary; **"You weren't rambling." I look up to see her standing up, probably heading home. "We were having a conversation."  
**rating;** PG  
**disclaimer; **I figured that until we got something on how they came to be Defiance's "power couple" or whatever, why not theorize ourselves? Probably will turn into a mulit- chapter one shots about all the way they could have met.

* * *

**#4 **_Just a Conversation_

* * *

I walk into the usual club. It's packed like always- mostly with people my age or at least within a 4 year limit of it, give or take. The music is some Irathian song, that's different; usually they play a Castithan artist on the speakers- any Voltan song would do, but they always played who packed the crowd meaning there had to be more Irathians than usual. Strange. I shrug it off as I walk over to the bar off to the side, not really up to the standards that one would have if they were at the NeedWant, but usually people only go there for the hookers or the cards. I took my seat atop the stool and ordered myself a normal drink. I didn't feel like parting lately which is why my friends had left me behind tonight, letting me wonder the streets in boredom before trudging my way here.

It's the same every night really. I come, I drink, I dance, I leave, I gamble, I sleep; nothing new, nothing fun. The same thing everyday isn't life- its routine and I can't deal with it- how do people deal with it? How do people take every day and confine it to a list-

"How about you take your hands and move them?" I hear from behind me. I turn in my seat to see a girl- a _human_ girl rush away from the crowd. A human guy follows after her, reaching for her hand- she seems to be trying to put as much distance in between them as possible. This was something totally different, totally new. I could help her- help a human; that would be entirely different from everyday events.

"Christie, come on!" He calls after her, pulling on her arm, twisting her around against her will. "Let's just go back out there and dance!" He pleads trying to pull her back to the dance floor covered with Voltans and humans alike. She twists her arm away from him, only to have him latch on a second later. I hop off my stool, leaving my barely touched drink behind me- even if it did add variety, this _geicho_* is drunk. I let my body weight shift so I'm leaning against the bar. "Dude, the girl doesn't wanna dance." I say in my mother's tongue. They both turn to look at me, both with furrowed brows. I roll my eyes- more so at him, than the girl. "She doesn't want to dance. Move on." I speak in English this time, letting him catch every word that passes between my lips. He laughs and approaches me, using the walk that a guy who thinks he's a big bad uses to assert authority.

"Yeah?" He asks, his eyebrows shooting up- a challenge. My fingers itch to grasp for my blade, but I keep them folded in place. "Says who? A haint?" He laughs out loud and that draws over a few unwelcome eyes; I keep a straight face, letting the insult slide.

"No," I shake my head, I lean in close and whisper for his ears alone, "Alak Tarr." His eyes open wide as I lean back into my old position. "Oh, so you know my name?" I ask coyly as he takes a step back and nods. He shoots a look to Christie and then back to me, then back to her; as if he was trying to decide to save his own skin or save hers too. In the end he goes with option A. I turn back around and climb back onto my stool, taking a sip from my now warm drink.

I feel someone take the seat next to me. "Thanks." I hear and turn my head toward the voice, seeing the girl who I 'saved' from the obsessive guy. "That guy was a lackey of my brother who was getting a bit too comfortable with me." Her face grows into a shade of red with a added expression of disgust and I can't help but chuckle.

"You're welcome." I respond with. She turns fully toward me, swinging her legs to the side and everything. I take notice that she is dressed in human partying attire: a light blue dress and brown tights. She has on a pair of black, combat boots that lace up to the bottom of her calf with a blue jacket that has white sleeves and a light blue stripe down the side. "Can I ask you a question?" She interrupts my once- over and I look into her eyes, which are a deep, warm brown that matches her dark brown hair that is pulled back in to a pony tail that most humans wear. I shrug to answer her question, but go back to my thoughts. This girl is really attractive.

"Why did you help me?" She leans her head over to the side and crosses her legs at the same time. "Most of your kind would've looked the other way." She- No, _Christie_ points out.

I decide to give her an honest answer. "Most of my days are spent the exact same and I wanted something different to shake it up." I shrug, "I figured that saving a girl, a _human_ girl- mind you, would accomplish what I was seeking to do-"

"Shake up your system?" She asks me. "Pretty much. And now I'm rambling on to a beautiful girl who probably has a tone of other things she could be doing." I say in a rush as I look back down in my drinks. I hear a low laugh from my left, the side she is on and I feel even more foolish. Why did I say beautiful? I could've gone with human!

"You weren't rambling." She interrupts, once again, my inner tirade and berating. I look up to see her standing up and straightening out her jacket, probably heading home. "We were having a conversation." I smile at her and she begins to walk away.

"Hey!" I call out and she stops, "What's your name?" I ask. I know her first is Christie, but what of the rest?

"Christie McCawley." She answers, stand still in her spot. McCawley- I rummage my mind for the names meaning; I look up at her and suddenly I can see the resemblance.

"Rafe's kid." I say absentmindedly. "What of it?" She responds, a corner of her lip pulling up.

"My dad and your dad hate each other." I respond.

"That's my dad. I don't see why we have to hate each other- we all live in the same world, have to get along sometime, right?" She answers my silent question. I return her grin as she turns from me and walks out of the club. Seems fitting, she didn't really fit in to begin with. Too different, too new for this world; new and different- just what I was searching for. I smile into my glass for the first time this night.

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**If you guys have any ideas you would like to share for me to write, feel free to ask!**


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